


Did You Miss Me?

by Fandom_Stuff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 06:52:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18330848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Stuff/pseuds/Fandom_Stuff
Summary: Alternate Ending to Sherlock Season 4 episode 4: Did You Miss Me?John is dealing with the aftermath of Mary's death. Sherlock begins to notice something isn't right. A DVD is delivered to 221B Baker Street and when John and Sherlock view it, they begin to question everything they thought they ever knew about Mary Morstan.





	Did You Miss Me?

Sherlock sat in his chair, bouncing his knee up and down as Rosie let out jubilant cries of excitement. He glanced at the baby then at John who had fallen asleep in his chair, his head tilted back and his mouth open. His knee stopped moving and Rosie’s happiness changed to a cry. Sherlock picked her up and cradled her in his arms glancing down warmly at her sweet, innocent face. Sherlock glanced back at John who was still asleep. Rosie stopped crying and let out a small gurgling sound. Sherlock stood up and brought her up to John’s room where she’d been sleeping in a crib beside John’s bed. He placed her down behind the white bars and kissed her head. “Nap time Rosie.” He said softly, “Sleep well.” Rosie started to cry as soon as Sherlock began to leave, he turned and looked back at her and she stopped crying when their eyes met through the bars. “I can’t stay you know.” He said. Rosie didn’t take her eyes off him and she opened her mouth and let out another little whimper. Sherlock sighed, “Fine, I’ll stay. But only until you fall asleep.” Sherlock sat down on John’s bed and watched as Rosie started to settle down. Soon she was asleep and Sherlock kissed her head again and descended the stairs to find John sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“How’s Rosie?” He asked.

“Sleeping.” Sherlock replied.

John sighed, “Thank you. For taking care of her.”

Sherlock looked at John, slightly confused, “Why wouldn’t I help my best friend with the care of his child. I am after all her Godfather.”

John laughed, “You didn’t really want to be at first. Are you telling me that a small, inferior human being has earned your affection?”

Sherlock smiled, “Don’t sound so surprised, she’s not the first person to have done so.”

“Who was the first then?” John asked with a yawn.

“You.” Sherlock replied without even a delay.

John smiled, “Well I’m chuffed Sherlock.”

Sherlock returned the smile then his eyes rested on a package on the table beside John’s chair. “What’s that?” He asked.

John’s eyes moved to the package and he frowned in confusion, “I don’t know.”

Sherlock stepped forward and picked up the package, John stood up and together they peered inside. It was another DVD. Sherlock pulled it out and saw the words, ‘THE GAME IS ON’. Sherlock and John exchanged glances, “Mary?” Sherlock asked.

“Let’s find out.” John replied. They popped the disk in the DVD player and sat back to watch. Sure enough an image of Mary appeared on the screen but she looked different, not like the Mary Sherlock had known, John looked confused but they continued watching.

“John, Sherlock.” She began her eyes twinkled and she smiled.

John paused the video, “That is not Mary.” He said. 

Sherlock looked closely at the screen, half-agreeing with John that it wasn’t the Mary they knew, but it was certainly Mary. “It is her John. She’s just, different.” Sherlock replied.

“Too different, something’s off.” John said.

Sherlock reached for the remote and hit ‘play’. “Let’s find out shall we?”

The video resumed and Mary’s smile faded, “The game is on Sherlock.” She said. “But it’s not really a game, not anymore, isn’t that right.” She smiled again, her eyes flashing. John stiffened beside Sherlock. “I want you to solve a case Sherlock, a case that’s been under your nose for some time now. I thought you would have figured it out by now, but then again, you’ve often had a blind spot when it comes to John Watson.” It was Sherlock’s turn to stiffen, what was Mary talking about? The DVD continued, “I gave you your first clue ages ago, months in fact, are you as good as you think you are Sherlock Holmes? Do you have what it takes to go against me?” Mary smiled again and the video cut out.

“What the hell was that?” John asked.

Sherlock’s mind was buzzing with thoughts and he paid no attention to John’s question. He stood up and immediately started pacing. He couldn’t resist a case, especially if it made no sense. Mary had said she’d given them a clue months ago. Months..months…months..

“Sherlock?” John stood up, cutting through Sherlock’s thought process. “What’s going on?”

Sherlock faced him, “I don’t know John, but I’ll figure it out. I just need….” Sherlock’s eyes widened, “Oh!” He gasped. “Months ago! Of course! It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Sherlock eyes suddenly sparked with sadness and he turned to John who was staring at him.

“What is it?” John asked.

“You won’t like it.” Sherlock replied.

“Tell me.” John said stiffly.

Sherlock met his friend’s eyes, “Rosie.”

“What about her?” John asked.

“She’s not real.” Sherlock said.

“What are you on about, of course she’s real!” John shouted.

“Have you looked at her? I mean really looked John. She’s not real, she’s only real when we want her to be.”

“You’re not making any sense.” John said skeptically.

“You weren’t paying attention John. Neither was I and that’s saying something. At your psychiatrist's house, the one Euros pretended to be, we were all there. You, me, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, everyone that would have been taking care of Rosie, but Rosie wasn’t there was she? So who was with her? She’s not real, she only exists when we remember that she’s there.” Sherlock saw John’s expression contort.

“How…..” John cleared his throat and clenched his fist by his side, “How did I…how did we….not notice that!?”

“I don’t know John. I really don’t know.” Sherlock replied, he felt uneasy.

“So how does that work then?” John asked. “How could Mary have given birth to something that wasn’t real?”

Sherlock looked at John, waiting for him to understand what had been off about Mary in that video but John had sat down on the couch, his head buried in his hands. Sherlock took his place beside him,   
“Mary planned it.” He said, “She practically told us that she faked the baby.”

“But how is that possible? How come we can see her?” John asked.

Sherlock pondered on that for a moment, “We all spent time with Mary, we didn’t think anything of her, you trusted her, even I trusted her even after she shot me. But think about it John. She had multiple opportunities to dose us up on something, some kind of drug that inhibits a shared hallucination. She was a trained assassin, she traveled the world, she must have run into something that could have these effects on people. I mean when we aren’t with Rosie we forget she exists.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes in thought. “And today, when you were asleep, Rosie was laughing and crying loud enough to wake you and you’re a light sleeper, but you didn’t stir at all, not until I made my way upstairs, that’s what woke you, my faint footsteps but not the cries of your child.”

“Oh God.” John whispered in dismay.

Sherlock stood up again, what was Mary playing at? Suddenly the telly clicked on. “Well done, Sherlock. Figured it out have you?”

John’s head snapped up and Sherlock froze mid-pace to turn and look at the television box. “What the….” John gaped. Mary continued.

“The baby’s not real, you figured it out faster than I expected, but no matter, there’s more to keep you occupied.” Mary smiled again. Sherlock almost shivered at it, something was so off with this video of Mary, it couldn’t have been her before she died, she looked older, her eyes darkened by lack of sleep, and that smile, it was evil. Pure evil, Culverton Smith evil. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and studied Mary’s face. She was indeed older and her eyes followed Sherlock’s arms as they lowered beside his side. This was live footage.

“Hello again.” Sherlock said with a smile of his own. “Are you planning on telling us how you faked your death or do I have to figure that out too? You know I have some experience in that field.”

John faltered on the couch, “W..what? What did you say?”

Sherlock looked at John, “Mary isn’t dead. This is live footage, how else could the tv turn on at exactly the right moment, and how could she have known the outcome of these months unless she was alive.   
You’re not that good.” Sherlock said as he turned back to the television.

Mary smiled yet again, “Very good Sherlock. I’ll leave you to ponder your thoughts and explain to John just exactly what is going on as I’m sure you figured it out already.”

“Of course I have.” Sherlock replied. “I just don’t understand why.”

“Why not. It’s not a game anymore.” Mary’s parting words hung in the air as the television clicked off again.

John had stood up, “Tell me what the bloody hell is going on! Right now!” John demanded.

Sherlock looked into John’s eyes and began. “It’s always been Mary. From the beginning. Everything. It’s all been Mary. Moriarty, Euros. Everything. Why didn’t I see it before?”

“How?” John asked, he wasn’t panicking, his voice was calm.

Sherlock put his hands to his temples and shut his eyes; he went over everything that had happened since Mary was introduced into his life and now it made sense. “She played us.” Sherlock said. “How could I have been so blind!?” Sherlock growled in frustration.

“Forget your ego Sherlock, tell me what’s going on!?” John snapped. “Start with Moriarty.”

Sherlock sighed, “Alright, he was hired for a job and he executed it with perfect elegance.”

“Hired by whom?” John asked.

Sherlock suspected that John already knew the answer, he just wanted Sherlock to say it out loud, “Mary.”

John sat down at this, “I….just continue.”

Sherlock did, “Yes Moriarty acted the part, but he wasn’t the real mastermind, he wasn’t the man behind the curtain, or woman should I say. That was Mary. Always Mary. She planned it all.”

“Let me get this straight, Moriarty was actually an actor all along and my wife is the person who hired him to try to kill us?” John was blinking in disbelief.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Sherlock replied. “Mary planted the words in his mouth, she fed him the lines. I should have realized when the first DVD arrived, the words Miss Me printed plain as day. She wasn’t around when Moriarty first started leaving us little cases, how did she have inner knowledge that wasn’t exactly public apart from your blog. She knew things she couldn’t have known.” Sherlock spun around again in frustration, “How did I of all people not see this until now!?” He shouted in anger. “And Euros! Once she found out that I had a mad sister she could use her to her advantage. She sent Moriarty in, intrigued that Euros wanted to see him. Moriarty was no doubt instructed to do as Euros told him and they made their little scheme. He recorded the messages and then Moriarty had to die, but so did I. Moriarty shot himself, and I jumped off a building. Then it was time to show herself to you, my grieving friend. She had to gain your trust, she knew I wasn’t dead, and she knew you didn’t know. She pretended to love you, and then I came back from the dead. She shot me and saved my life on the same day trying to gain my trust as well, which evidently she did manage to do. Then it was time to fake the baby and die a few months after. Once she was dead then she could move onto the next part of the plan. The part where I figure it out. That’s the problem though isn’t it!?” Sherlock shouted to the air, “Every villain can’t stay hidden forever, they crave attention, they want to be found out.” John was staring at Sherlock his jaw hanging open his eyes wide, Sherlock met his gaze, “It all makes sense doesn’t it?” Sherlock said.

John shut his mouth, “I suppose it does yes.”

“And she was right.” Sherlock said.

“About what?” John asked, his voice was distracted, shock present in every word.

“I do have a blind spot when it comes to you.” Sherlock replied, “Because I should have noticed things were off, I should have realized what was happening, but I didn’t. I believed in the baby, I believed in Mary, because you did. I didn’t doubt it for a second.”

“Are you saying that I can’t be trusted?” John asked, hurt deepening the shock in his voice.

“No John, I didn’t mean that.” Sherlock tried to figure out what he was trying to say.

“Then what did you mean?” John asked a sharp tint of anger appearing in the mix of emotions in his voice.

“I meant that I don’t doubt you, I never have and I never will!” Sherlock replied in a shout.

John was speechless for a second, “I…Sherlock…how can you not doubt me, after this.”

“Because this wasn’t your fault.” Sherlock replied he held John’s gaze for a moment before looking away. “We have to stop Mary John. Another case, are you up for the challenge, the game is on.”

John smiled slightly, it was only half hearted, Sherlock knew he was still in shock. Then Sherlock saw the tears. He didn’t even think twice about it, he moved beside John and sat next to him on the couch, taking John’s face and pressing it into his chest. Soon Sherlock’s shirt had a small wet spot that was beginning to grow into a pool. Sherlock rested his chin on the top of John’s head, for the second time in only so many weeks and each time he had been holding a crying John. 

“I’m sorry about all this.” He said quietly. “Really I am.”

John sniffed under Sherlock’s chin, “It’s not your fault either.” He said.

“Isn’t it?” Sherlock pulled away from John and John sat up, wiping his eyes. “I should have realized what Mary was, but all I wanted was for you to be happy, I saw right through her.”

“I wasn’t even happy with Mary, I cheated on her for Christ’s sake!” More tears began to pool in John’s eyes. 

“You cheated on her with my sister.” Sherlock said trying to make a joke, John didn’t see it as a joke, his tear filled eyes suddenly grew wide in realization.

“Oh God, I did didn’t I? That’s so messed up.”

“I’m not that protective of an older brother.” Sherlock said, again trying for a joke. This time John laughed as he wiped away more tears.

“Thank God.” John sniffed again. He stood up and Sherlock joined him. “Come on, we have to stop my not-dead wife from whatever she’s planning. Where to first?”

“We have to speak with Molly.” Sherlock replied with a smile.

Sherlock and John went outside and hailed a cab. They reached St. Bart’s and Sherlock strolled into the hospital. Molly was in the morgue as usual and Sherlock burst through the doors. “Ah Molly, thought I might find you here.” Molly jumped and rolled her eyes at Sherlock’s appearance.

“What is it?” She asked with a note of pure loathing in her voice.

“Mary Morstan.” Sherlock replied. 

“What about her?” Molly asked with a glance at John.

“You took care of her body did you not?” Sherlock asked as he stepped toward Molly.

Molly took a step back, “Uh, yes, why?”

“Took pictures I assume?” Sherlock pressed.

“What is this Sherlock?” She asked, “What’s going on?”

“She’s not dead.” Sherlock stated.

“What? No, of course she is, she was shot.” Molly again looked at John, but John was standing stone-still, the tears he had shed back in the flat were gone, not a trace left.

“Yes and I fell off a rooftop and survived, faking your death is not as hard as some people seem to think.” Sherlock said. “I need to see those pictures Molly.”

“Not unless you tell me what’s going on.” Molly replied.

“Long story short, Mary is a psychopath who played Moriarty all along, married John to gain his trust, faked a baby, and faked her death; I need to know how it was done. Those pictures will tell me.” Sherlock said so bluntly that Molly actually swayed on the spot.

“Faked a baby? But…Rosie…” Molly stumbled with her words.

“Rosie was a figment of everyone’s imagination. Now, the photographs, please.” Sherlock snapped.

Molly jumped a little at Sherlock’s rough tone and John finally stepped in, “I know it’s all a shock, it was a shock to me too, but we really need to see those pictures.”

Molly nodded, “Yes, of course you do.” She went over to a cabinet and dialed a combination to open the drawer, she pulled out a folder and handed it to Sherlock. “Everything about Mary Morstan is in that   
folder.” She said.

Sherlock grabbed Molly’s shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek, “Molly Hooper, you are amazing and may have just saved the world.” 

Molly blushed deeply as Sherlock pulled away and left the room; John raised his eyebrows at Molly and grinned for a second, “Thanks.” He said.

“No problem.” Molly replied quietly as John followed Sherlock out of the morgue.

Sherlock was standing in the hallway, mulling over the pictures. “It doesn’t make sense.” He said without looking up at John.

“Why, what’s wrong?” John asked as he peered over Sherlock’s shoulder.

“This is not Mary.” Sherlock replied.

John saw that he was right. The person in the photograph looked a lot like Mary but it wasn’t her, “Recently deceased person?” John asked, “She learned from the best. That’s how you did it.” John said.  
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, “Yes, but she wouldn’t be that obvious, copying me isn’t a smart move and Mary is smart. She had this planned for a long time, she put thought into this. She’s throwing us off, she has to be. A path to follow that will answer none of our questions and leave us in confusion.” Sherlock stuffed the photos back in the folder and turned to John, “You knew her, better than I did. Even she couldn’t have lived a life with you without some of her real self leaking into play.”

John looked at Sherlock, dismayed, “Clearly I didn’t know her at all. Is everyone in my life going to fake their own deaths?”

Sherlock felt guilt stab him, “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

John shot him a smile, “Not nearly enough times as you have.”

“Come on, let’s go back to the flat. We can figure this out there.” Sherlock led the way and they took a cab back to 221B. Mrs. Hudson greeted them, John said a quick hello but Sherlock went straight upstairs. John followed him. As soon as they entered the room Sherlock knew that something was off. Sherlock noticed it right away. There was another package lying on the table beside John’s chair.

“Mrs. Hudson!” Sherlock called and raced back down the stairs.

“What is it?” She asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Who was here?” Sherlock demanded.

Mrs. Hudson stared at Sherlock in shock at his gruff tone, “Uh, no one, no one’s been here since you boys left.”

“It doesn’t make sense!” Sherlock yelled.

“What’s going on with you two?” Mrs. Hudson asked.

“It’s a case Mrs. Hudson.” John replied as Sherlock raced back upstairs. “A very confusing case.”

“Well as long as you keep him in line John I’m sure it will turn out alright.” Mrs. Hudson replied with a little smile.

“I do hope so.” John said.

“Oh, and Rosie’s been awfully quiet upstairs, you should probably check on her.” Mrs. Hudson said over her shoulder as she tottered off back to the kitchen.

“Yeah, probably.” John said to her back in a mutter. He went back upstairs to see Sherlock holding yet another DVD. “What’s that one say?” He asked as he got closer.

Sherlock tilted the disk towards John so he could make out the words written across the DVD. John froze where he was. “But…that’s…” He found no words.

“Yes.” Sherlock answered, knowing what John was trying to say. “A.G.R.A.”

“Should we play it?” John asked wearily.

“We might as well.” Sherlock replied. He popped the disk in and they took their seats.

Mary appeared again, “So Sherlock, John, did you miss me?” Sherlock flinched at the phrase, “It is so entertaining to watch you struggle Sherlock. The mystery that surrounds me is far more complex than you first thought. You haven’t got the faintest idea who I really am or what I’m capable of, but you’ll soon find out. Another Game Readily Awaits if you have the stomach to play.” And once again Mary departed from their screen.

“A.G.R.A.” Sherlock muttered.

“Another Game Readily Awaits.” John said softly.

“A game that I will play,” Sherlock’s voice hardened, “and a game that we will win.”  
****  
Sherlock couldn’t sleep. He could never sleep when he had a particularly difficult case to solve. John had gone to bed an hour ago after he had checked to see if Rosie was indeed fake, which she was. The baby was nowhere to be found. Sherlock paced the length of the sitting room, rubbing his temples in thought. What would Mary’s next move be? He tried to deduce what he already knew about her but everything Sherlock thought of had to be a lie. He couldn’t be certain about anything and that buzzed in his ear like a fly that he couldn’t get rid of. He yelled in frustration then collapsed in his chair to think more. The folder on Mary Morstan lay open next to him. Sherlock had researched women that had died in the last few months with Mary’s features but nothing had come up except Mary Morstan herself. Could Molly have made a mistake? No. Molly was too good for that. Then Sherlock’s phone went off with a sigh. “OH!” He shouted. Irene Adler. She faked her death almost just like Mary did. Sherlock picked up the phone to view the text.

“I’m in town. Let’s have dinner.” Sherlock had to have his questions answered and he hastily replied.

“Where?”

Sherlock’s phone sighed again, “Oh, are we texting today? What’s happened?”

“I’ll tell you at dinner.”

“Fine, Angelo’s, now.”

Sherlock slipped into his coat and practically burst out of 221B, he hailed a passing cab and arrived at Angelo’s. “Sherlock!” Angelo called happily.

“Hello.” Sherlock smiled. “I’m looking for a friend of mine.” Angelo gestured towards a table and there sat Irene. The Woman, her eyes narrowed at Sherlock and a smile brightened her cheeks. Sherlock made his way to her and sat down. “How did you do it?” He asked her before she could even say hello.

“Do what?” “She replied a slight quiver of shock lived in her voice at Sherlock’s abruptness.

“Fake your death. I need to know.”

Irene smiled, “I already told you. Someone owed me a favor.”

“Who? This is important.”

Irene looked him up and down and picked up her menu. “You know that’s not how I work. I don’t give information freely Sherlock Holmes. What’s in it for me?”

“Anything.” Sherlock replied.

“Desperate are we? Buy me dinner first, then we’ll talk.” Sherlock struggled through the evening. It was late. Almost 11:30, Sherlock had left the flat at 10 and Irene was eating her food so slowly that Sherlock felt his jaw tighten with apprehension. “I need context Sherlock.” She said after she had swallowed a bite of her meal. “You tell me what’s going on and I’ll decide if it’s worth my divulging private information.”

Sherlock saw no way around telling Irene everything, “Alright, but not here.”

Irene took her last bite and dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Very well.” Sherlock felt himself relax slightly. He paid Angelo then he and Irene took a cab back to 221B. “Where’s John?” She asked upon their arrival.

“Asleep.” Sherlock replied as he led her into the sitting room. She took Sherlock’s chair, just to spite him, then looked at him expectantly.

“Well.”

“Mary Morstan. I’m sure you know her.”

“Of course. She was John’s wife and died saving your life.”

“Wrong.” Sherlock said.

“How so?” Irene inquired.

“She’s not dead.”

Irene smiled, “Oh, and you want to know how she did it.” Irene stood up and drew close to Sherlock’s chest to whisper in his ear. “The famous detective Sherlock Holmes, unable to solve a case.”

“Stop it.” Sherlock stepped away from her.

Irene seemed to have no intention of doing so, “Surely you of all people can figure it out Sherlock. You yourself have faked death.”

“She got shot in the abdomen. How does one fake that?”

Irene sat back down, “Well you can’t. Not unless both sides are in on it.”

Sherlock felt something in his brain click. “Oh of course. Vivian Norbury was in on it too! Oh this is rather good.”

“See you didn’t need me.” Irene said with a smile.

“There is one thing I do need your help with.” Sherlock said. He reached down and picked up the folder with the photos of the ‘deceased’ Mary. “These pictures, they aren’t Mary. And I did my research, no one died with these descriptions around the same time Mary was shot.”  
Irene studied the photos then she stood up and handed the folder back to Sherlock. “You’re not thinking Sherlock. How did I do it?”

“I don’t know.” Sherlock replied.

“Yes you do. Think.”

Sherlock thought. Irene wandered around the flat as he stood there frozen. She examined pictures and then her eyes fell on the DVD’s. Before Irene could open the packages Sherlock figured it out. “Faked.” He said. “Everything faked. Fake baby, fake death, fake body.”

Irene smiled, “I told you you’d figure it out.”

“A mold. Easy really.”

“But.” Irene prompted.

“Not the face.” Sherlock remember how he had identified Irene by her body, not her face. “The face never comes out perfect, the rest of the body does. You were smart about it. You made it so our death contorted your facial features. Mary, now Mary has made her first big mistake.” Sherlock felt a bubble of hope spring in him. He could figure this out.

“Very good.” Irene said happily. She turned back to the DVD’s. “What are these?”

Sherlock went beside her and took the package from her hand, “From Mary. Her case.”

“Her case?” Irene echoed.

“The one I’m solving right now.” Sherlock replied. “She left John and me DVD’s, at first it was her goodbye, now it’s a scheme.”

“I’m intrigued.” Irene whispered.

“You remember Moriarty.”

“Yes.”

“He never existed. Moriarty was Mary.”

Irene snatched the DVD package from his hands and looked inside. “Interesting, are you sure?”

“Positive.” Sherlock replied.

“What do these mean?” She asked, looking at the words on the DVD’s. Miss me? Miss you. The Game is on. A.G.R.A.

“Moriarty’s signature saying was did you miss me.” Sherlock explained.

“Miss you was for John and the game is on is what you always say when you have a case.” Irene jumped in, “But what’s A.G.R.A.?”

“It’s the group of trained assassins Mary took part in. There were four of them, those are the first letters of each of their names. But it has another meaning,”

“Another meaning?”

“For me, Another Game Readily Awaits.”

Irene’s mouth twitched, “And you can’t resist a game Sherlock Holmes.”

“No, I can’t.” Sherlock agreed.

Suddenly Sherlock heard footsteps on the stairs and John appeared, “What’s going on?” He asked.

“Sorry did we wake you?” Sherlock asked, slightly guilty.

“No, I just heard…” His eyes rested on Irene. “Irene Adler.” He said, slightly confused.

“Hello John.” Irene replied.

“She’s helping with the case.” Sherlock explained.

 

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” John asked through a yawn.

“You were sleeping.” Sherlock replied.

“I want to work on this case too, if you’ve found something I want to know what it is.” John replied gruffly.

Sherlock sighed, “It’s complicated.”

“Tell me.” John crossed his arms.

Irene grinned at them, “You are such a couple.”

John glared at her, “Don’t you start, for the thousandth time, I.AM.NOT.GAY!”

Irene’s grin deepened, “I never said you were.”

Sherlock cleared his throat and Irene shut her mouth, “Basically Mary made a mold of her body, which is what Irene did the first time she faked death, but the face never comes out right, that’s why Irene’s face was banged up when we went to see her body in morgue. But Mary didn’t think about this, that’s her first mistake. We’re onto her John.” Sherlock turned to Irene who was still grinning.  
John continued looking at Sherlock, “Has it occurred to you that that’s what she wants you to think?”

Sherlock spun back to face John, “Of course it has.”

“Then how do you know for certain that it wasn’t intentional?” John asked.

“I don’t.” Sherlock replied.

John gave a huff of annoyance, “You see this, this is your problem!” John shouted, “You make assumptions about things and one day you’re not going to be right and it’s going to get you killed. Properly killed Sherlock. How do we even plan to catch her? What’s her plan?”

“I’m working on it John.” Sherlock replied. “But first, I have to find the camera.”

“The camera?” John asked.

“Naturally, the camera. The one she’s been using to spy on us. She couldn’t have turned on the television on a whim, she needed to be watching.” Sherlock started searching the room.

“For Christ’s sake Sherlock give it a rest!” John cried.

“No, I will not.” Sherlock replied, he was standing on his chair, peering at the bookshelf.

“It doesn’t look like you two will be needing me any longer. I’ll be going. ” Irene said. “Just remember you owe me one Sherlock.”

“Yeah, whatever, fine.” Sherlock had moved to look under his chair. 

“Best just sneak out now, while he’s occupied.” John muttered.

“Don’t you lose him John Watson.” Irene said and she looked at Sherlock.

“I’ll try not to. He’s pretty easy to find anyway.” John replied with a slight smile.

“I’ll keep in touch.” Irene promised. “It was good to see you again.”

“You too. Catch you later.”

Irene left and Sherlock sat up, “Where is it!?” He shouted.

“Sherlock. Go to bed.” John said.

“Can’t sleep John, not with this on my mind.” Sherlock replied as he continued his search.

“Well try.” John snapped. Sherlock ignored him and kept looking for the hidden camera. John walked over to stand beside him as he looked on top of the fireplace mantle. John grabbed his arm and swung   
Sherlock around to face him, “Sherlock. Bed. Now.”

Their eyes met and Sherlock seemed to give in, “Oh alright.”

John shoved him off to his bedroom then made his way upstairs. Sherlock sat on his bed and resumed thinking. Where could Mary have hidden the camera? She’d had multiple chances to do so within the span that John and Mary had met. Sherlock was deep in thought when John opened his door “Go. To. Bed. Sherlock.” He snapped. “I’m not stupid, I knew you’d be sitting up thinking anyway. Stop thinking and get some rest.”

“John I have an inability to stop thinking.”

“Then think in your sleep. I don’t want you to keep me up all night; I unlike you do value my sleep.” John snapped before shutting the door and this time going up the stairs for good.  
Sherlock thought that perhaps John was right and he should try to sleep, but one person was on his mind, Vivian Norbury. He had to speak with her. Sherlock was tempted to leave right now, find Mycroft and demand to see her, but Sherlock knew John would kill him for leaving without him. So, instead Sherlock settled down under the covers, not even bothering to change into his pajamas, only slipping off his shoes. Once his head hit the pillows he realized how tired he actually was and he was sleep in no time.  
****  
“I can’t do that Sherlock.”

“Why not?” Sherlock demanded.

“Vivian Norbury is under explicit watch.” Mycroft replied. “I can’t just give access to just anyone.”

“I’m not just anyone.” Sherlock said with his usual cunning tone.

Mycroft sighed, “I would be betraying the privacy of national security,”

“That’s never stopped you before.” John pointed out from his place beside Sherlock.

Mycroft sighed, “You can’t keep calling in all your favors.”

“And why not?” Sherlock asked, “You don’t know who’s behind everything.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, “There are very few things that I do not know brother mine,”

“Mary Morstan is alive.” Sherlock said. 

This actually managed to paint shock on Mycroft’s face, “Impossible, I would know.”

“It’s true.” John said. “She’s alive.”

“How can you be sure?” Mycroft asked.

“I have my connections Mycroft, one of them being Vivian Norbury.” Sherlock gave his brother a hard look. “We need to see her.”

Mycroft looked from John to Sherlock and back again, “Fine, but she won’t be pleased to see you.”

“And I don’t want you listening in.” Sherlock added.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, it’s my job.” Mycroft said as he led them towards where Mrs. Norbury was being kept.

“Then take the day off.” Sherlock snapped, as he took Mycroft’s key card and swiped at the cell door. “And I’ll know if you’re listening. Come on John.” Sherlock stepped into the cell, John in tow.  
Vivian Norbury sat behind a booth, her back to them, she turned at their approach. “Ah, come to see me, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need you to tell me why you pretended to shoot Mary Morstan.” Sherlock said simply.

“Why dear I have no clue as to what you are talking about.” Mrs. Norbury replied, but Sherlock saw fear behind her eyes.

John stepped forward; Sherlock knew the stance he held himself up with well, anger, questions demanding to be answered. “Tell us why you were in on it. Tell us now, and nobody gets hurt.”

Mrs. Norbury laughed, “You cannot hurt me John Watson.”

“But I can.” Sherlock stepped up next to John, “Answer his question Vivian.”

Vivian Norbury looked at both Sherlock and John, her eyes holding a debate in a few seconds, “Mary came to me,” She began, John relaxed slightly next to Sherlock, “she told me she had to die and it had to be real. I didn’t know why she was coming to me, until she mentioned a word, one word.”

“Ammo.” Sherlock said, piecing together the puzzle.

Vivian Norbury nodded, “Ammo. She said she knew it was me. She told me to lure you to a meeting place. She wanted me to occupy you until she could arrive, I did so, and then she told me to shoot you, and she would die a heroic death, saving the life of the best friend of the man she loved.”

“She never loved me.” John said sharply.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” Sherlock continued, “How did she fake her death, she had no pulse.”

“She was a trained assassin; she knows how to stop her pulse for a few seconds.” Mrs. Norbury said with a slight chuckle. “Sherlock Holmes, I rather fear you are losing your touch.”

Sherlock stiffened and gestured to John, “That’s all we’ll be needing from you today Vivian.”

“But that’s not all I’ll be needing from you Sherlock Holmes. You asked me a question I gave you an answer, now it’s my turn.”  
Sherlock and John turned to face her, “Ask away.”

“How did you and John Watson survive a fall from the second story of a building?” Sherlock’s surprise sparked on his face, “Yes I do get the tabloids in here, I’m not completely cut off from the outside world.”

Sherlock’s surprise turned into a smile, “Well how did I do it the first time? Favors are easy to call in in a few seconds, especially when your brother occupies, how does he put it, ‘a minor position in the   
British Government’.” With that Sherlock spun around and left the room. Mycroft was waiting for them outside.

“How did it go?” He asked.

“You know how it went Mycroft. You never could resist eavesdropping.” Mycroft opened his mouth but Sherlock stopped him, “Don’t even try to deny it, come on John, we have work to do.” John shot Mycroft a sly smile and followed Sherlock out into the street.

“Where to now?” He asked.

“We need to figure out where Mary is operating from as Mrs. Norbury has just confirmed that Mary is not dead and she was in on the ‘kill’.” Sherlock replied as they tucked themselves into a cab. “Baker Street.” Sherlock told the cabbie before turning to John. “Where would she be John?”

John shook his head, “I don’t know.”

“You must know. Think John.”

“Sherlock I am thinking, but I don’t know who she is anymore, I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Sherlock heard John’s voice raise on the cusp of tears again.

Sherlock looked at John and their eyes met, “You are John Watson, you are my friend, and that’s all you need to know.”

John smiled as a single tear ran down his cheek, “When did you start showing emotions?” He asked.

“When did you start doubting yourself?” Sherlock shot back.

John didn’t reply and the rest of the ride went on in silence. They reached Baker Street and they entered the flat to find something very wrong. “Mrs. Hudson?” John called. There was no answer.

“She’s not here.” Sherlock stated. “Mary took her.”

John leaned up against the wall, “Oh my God. We should never have left her alone.”

“Mrs. Hudson will be fine. Even Mary wouldn’t hurt her.”

“How can you be sure!?” John shouted, “You can’t be! Everything we knew about Mary, everything we think we know about her, it’s all fake, nothing is real. I don’t even know if you’re real!”

“Me? Of course I’m real John use your head.”

John shut his eyes and walked a few paces away from Sherlock then he came back again, “You were dead. For two years. How do I know you even came back? How do I know I’m not hallucinating you?”  
Sherlock took hold of John’s shoulders to steady him, “John, everyone else can see me too, I’m real. I’m here.” John was shaking in Sherlock’s grip.

“This has gone too far.” John said, stepping away from Sherlock’s hands and moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked, surprise rising in his face.

“Out. I need some air.” John replied as he opened the door.  
Sherlock didn’t even have time to raise his voice to call John back before he had left the flat. Sherlock let out an angry huff, how could John leave at a time like this? Where would he go? Suddenly Sherlock panicked. He was out the door in a matter of seconds and standing in the street, looking left then right, then left again. Somehow John had already disappeared among the crowds and Sherlock couldn’t find the familiar stature of his best friend. Think. Where would he go? Where would he go, where would he go? Sherlock spun in circles, frustration eating at him. Then it hit him, of course. His house, the one he had shared with Mary. Sherlock hailed a cab and was on his way. When he reached John’s house he barely remembered to pay the cabbie before rushing inside.  
“John!?” He called. No answer. “John!?” He called again as he came into the living room. The television clicked on and Mary’s dubious smile greeted him.

“You’re too late Sherlock.” 

Sherlock felt fear steal his breath, “Too late?” He dared to ask.

Mary smiled again, “Oh use your head Sherlock.”

“What have you done with him!?” Sherlock felt his heart hammer dangerously in his chest and his pulse thickened noticeably.

“Him?” Mary repeated, “Don’t you mean them? Do you not care for your landlady at all?”

“Where are they?” Sherlock asked.

“That’s the fun part Sherlock, you get to find out on your own. But you have a time limit. Let’s say thirty minutes, just to make it fun. You’ve worked under similar terms, but let’s see the effect it has on you when it’s your dearest friends on the line.” The television snapped off and Sherlock kicked a nearby chair in anger. He was feeling something he wasn’t exactly used to, emotions. He did know one thing. He had to find John, he had to save him. As Sherlock set out he couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was that Mary was the one who told him to ‘Save John Watson’ and now he was literally doing just that.

Sherlock had thirty minutes to find John and Mrs. Hudson and to rescue them from whatever fate Mary had in store.   
Sherlock’s first impulse was to go to Lestrade, but he cut that off as an opportunity right way, Mary wanted him to do this alone, he could sense it. One wrong misstep and he might likely not see John or Mrs. Hudson again. 

Sherlock was just thinking about where to start investigating when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sherlock pulled it out and saw ‘image attachment’ and the words: a little incentive. Sherlock opened the file and his heart skipped a beat. It was John. Tied at the wrists and ankles, mouth stopped up by a gag, and Mrs. Hudson lying beside him exactly the same. Neither of them were conscious but Sherlock felt a little better knowing they were indeed still alive. He studied the surroundings in the photo and then he grinned. The Thames. That’s where they were, Mary was going to drown them.   
Sherlock was aware that a precious five minutes had elapsed in the time he had been standing on the roadside. He signaled to a taxi and climbed inside. He wasn’t very close to the Thames and Sherlock did out the math in his head. It would take fifteen minutes to reach the docks by that time a precious twenty minutes of his thirty would have diminished. He sat anxiously in his seat, shifting uncomfortably.

“Got a date?” The cabbie asked as he glanced in his rearview mirror, a sympathetic look in his eyes.  
Sherlock cringed visibly at the man’s terrible deduction skill and he resisted the urge to deduce the man’s own evening plans there and then, but he stopped himself, instead replying with, “Something like that.”

The Cabbie chuckled, “I’m sure everything will work out.”

“I do hope so.” Sherlock said through gritted teeth. London flew past outside his window and Sherlock was growing anxious. What if he was wrong? Then he heard John’s voice in his head, “Stop beating yourself up, trust yourself.” Sherlock’s phone beeped again and he fumbled all too quickly for it. Another image attachment and the words: Time’s running out. Sherlock opened the link to find weights now tied to both John and Mrs. Hudson’s feet. John’s eyes were open this time, and panic lightened the soldier's face. The cabbie pulled up next to the Thames and Sherlock threw money in his general direction, racing out into London. He scanned the docks and just made out three figures atop one of the docks. Sherlock broke into a run. The figure standing over John and Mrs. Hudson spotted Sherlock and then to Sherlock’s dismay, the figure, a man Sherlock deduced, not Mary herself, picked up John and tossed him like a paper weight into the water. Sherlock’s head reeled, “JOHN!" Sherlock cried as he raced up the length of the dock.. The man turned to face Sherlock, his arms at the ready, Sherlock met him with a swift punch to the jawline that knocked the man to the ground. He ripped his coat off of his shoulders then propelled himself into the water. He broke the surface with ease, opening his eyes under the murky water to search for John. He had often trained himself to hold his breath for immense periods of time and that skill aided him now. He spotted John a few yards away and began kicking towards him in a frantic haste. When he reached his best friend's side he saw that John’s eyes had closed, he had lost consciousness. Sherlock had to act fast. There was no way he would be able to bring John to the surface in time to save him if the weights stayed on his feet. Sherlock struggled to undo them, taking a precious thirty seconds to do so. Thirty seconds that John Watson was not breathing. The second the weights released John Sherlock thrust upward, dragging John with him. He surfaced, spluttering and gasped for air, but John stayed still at his side. Quick as he could Sherlock kicked towards shore and pulled John’s body up beside him.  
“John?” Sherlock shook him and a trickle of water dribbled from his mouth. John did not reply and Sherlock’s fear intensified. He shook him once more before knowing what he had to do. Sherlock pressed the heels of his hands into John’s chest and started to pump. He counted to thirty, and turned to John’s lips. He pinched John’s nose and tilted his chin up, more water gurgled out of his mouth. Sherlock placed his lips against John’s and breathed two breaths into his air pipe, then he resumed the compressions. Thirty. Two breaths. Thirty. Two breaths. Thirty. Two breathes. “Come on John please!” Sherlock muttered as he hit thirty once more and moved over to John’s face, he was on the second breath when John stirred beneath him, then his body shook in a spasm and he turned on his side and threw up a bunch of dirty Thames water, he coughed and wheezed, and Sherlock felt something loosen in his chest as he watched John revive. He sat there on the pebbly shore breathing almost as heavily as John was. Then John turned to looked at Sherlock.

Their eyes met, “Sherlock.” John wheezed. 

“I’m right here John.” Sherlock replied, as his heart slowly went back to a normal pace.

“You saved----

“You’re life, yes John, good deduction.” Sherlock tried to lighten the mood by being his usual obnoxious self. 

John shook his head as his chest heaved up and down, “You dove in there after me, then revived me with mouth to mouth.”

Sherlock smiled, “Yes John, now if you’re feeling fit enough then I suggest we return to the dock to free Mrs. Hudson as she has been lying there for quite some time while you were down here dying and I   
was trying not to panic over your lifeless body.”

“My…” John trailed off, “Sherlock…”

Sherlock stood up and offered John his hand, John took it and together they hobbled up the shore, John leaning heavily into Sherlock’s arms. They reached the top of the dock where Sherlock had cast his coat aside and left Mrs. Hudson, struggling madly with her bonds, and the man who was still knocked out cold on the wooden planks. Sherlock bent down and picked up his coat, he handed it to John, “Put this on, you need to get warm.” John stared at the coat in surprise. “Stop gaping and put it on so I can take care of Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock snapped. John took the coat and Sherlock moved with perfect elegance over to Mrs. Hudson. He freed her ties and helped her sit up. “Are you alright?” He asked.

Mrs. Hudson was shaking, “I’m alright dear.” She managed to say.

“Hand me my phone John.” Sherlock said, as he helped Mrs. Hudson stand up. “It’s in my coat.” Sherlock added. John dug into Sherlock’s coat pocket and produced his phone. Sherlock took it and dialed for an ambulance. He told the nature of the situation and their location then he hung up and phoned Lestrade. “I know it’s late Lestrade but you really need to look into the death of Mary Morstan. Yes John’s dead wife, yes I know she’s dead I’m not an idiot. Just do it. John nearly drowned I’m a bit preoccupied right now. Yes I said DROWNED. Yes look into the case will you. I have to go.” Sherlock hung up then moved over to John who was shivering where he stood. “The EMT’s will be here any second. You’ll be fine.” Sherlock assured John. John was still gasping for air, he didn’t seem to have heard Sherlock’s words. He was swaying on the spot. “John?” Sherlock felt his stomach churn as John collapsed. Sherlock caught him in his arms and Mrs. Hudson let out a squeak. “John!?” Sherlock checked his pulse, still beating, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

He heard sirens wailing in the distance but he didn’t leave John’s side. They EMT’s rushed towards them across the slippery planks of the dock. Sherlock hardly noticed as they lifted John onto a stretcher and another man helped Mrs. Hudson walk into an ambulance. Sherlock didn’t move from beside John. He walked with the men into another ambulance and he just stared as the EMT’s did their work.

Sherlock paced in the waiting room his thoughts fluttering to John and then resting angrily on Mary. How could Mary have done this? John had been her husband and Sherlock had indeed thought that she had loved John, now he knew that information was false. It was just a ruse, to get close to him. Mary had taken it a step too far when she had ordered John to be cast off a dock into endless water like he was nothing to the world and wouldn’t be missed. Sherlock paced and paced, his worry propelling him forward. Mrs. Hudson was resting in one of the hospital rooms but Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to go to her side. He knew she was fine. He needed to know the state of John’s injuries. The hospital was quiet, hardly a soul in sight apart from a sleeping elderly man further down the hallway whom Sherlock had already thoroughly deduced in his boredom. The man had two daughters, was an alcoholic, worked at a hardware store, and was waiting on the news of his wife who was currently in surgery for a blood clot. Sherlock paced some more, turning away from the boring man.

Finally, the door opened and a short nurse poked her head out, a clipboard in her hand. Sherlock rushed forward, a little quicker than he should have, “How is he?” He asked immediately his voice taught in a rope of fear.

The nurse smiled at Sherlock, “He’s going to be fine.”

“When can I see him?” Sherlock demanded.

“He won’t be awake for another ten minutes but you are welcome to go to his room and wait for him there.”

“Which way?” He asked, clearly taking the nurse up on her offer.

“Follow me.” Sherlock didn’t hesitate in his haste to follow the young nurse down the hallway. She took a few turns then led Sherlock into a small room. John lay on the bed and Sherlock noticed with huge relief that his chest was rising and falling rhythmically as he breathed. “I’ll leave you two alone.” The nurse smiled.

Sherlock hardly heard her. He made his way to the chair by John’s beside. The beeping of the cardio machine soothed Sherlock’s worries even more and he sat down with a sigh. Sherlock still couldn’t help but shiver at how close he had come to losing John. He gazed at his sleeping friend. John’s eyes fluttered gently as his body began to fight for consciousness. Sherlock’s heart was pounding like a hammer in his chest. His eyes floated to the clipboard that was hooked on the edge of his bed. He stood up and started to read:  
John Hamish Watson

The patient in question has consumed a large amount of water; as a result the surgery required drainage of lungs.  
Sherlock stopped reading, he couldn’t go on, he didn’t want to know the details. Sherlock returned to his seat and fixated his eyes once more on John. He hated waiting. Waiting was boring. He wanted John to wake up so he wouldn’t have to be bored anymore. Then John’s eyes flickered. Sherlock let out a small gasp of delight, and then John was in the waking world. “Sherlock?” John asked as he blinked in confusion.

Sherlock was overcome with emotion that all he managed to say was, “I’m here.”

John smiled, “Good.”

Sherlock had an impulse to take John’s hand but he refrained from doing so, afraid John would take it the wrong way. “I’m glad you’re back. It was getting rather boring without you.” Sherlock said instead. 

John chuckled, “It’s good to know I was missed.”

Sherlock smiled at John, “Well where would I be without my blogger?”

“Probably holed up in 221B shooting a wall and shouting at Mrs. Hudson.” John grimaced as he sat up. Sherlock felt himself slide to the edge of his seat.

“That probably isn’t a smart move John.” Sherlock said warningly.

“I’m a doctor, I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re not fully recovered yet.” Sherlock was on his feet now and his hand was on John’s shoulder. “Just get some rest.”

John reluctantly slithered back under the covers. “But I want to know about the case, did you find Mary?”

“I’ll tell you all about the case when you’re better.” Sherlock smirked.

John looked at his friend for a second, “What’s wrong?” He asked.

Sherlock was unprepared for the question and he hesitated under John’s quizzical gaze, He couldn’t stop the words from falling unceremoniously out of his mouth, “Well you almost died!”

John was speechless for a second then he recomposed himself, “Hurts doesn’t it.”

Sherlock was taken aback by the jab and he felt like he had just been punched in the gut. John’s face was contorted in a way that suggested hurt, confusion, and pain. For once in his life Sherlock could not deduce what John was thinking, and he didn’t know what to do.

John was staring at Sherlock and then his eyes softened, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sherlock held up a hand. “You’re right. It does hurt.” Sherlock sat back down in his chair and sighed, “I can’t bear the thought of losing you John. You.. you mean too much to me.”

John gaped slightly at him in surprise, “I.. I don’t know what to say Sherlock.”

“Then don’t say anything. Let me do the talking.” Sherlock met John’s eyes.

“Okay.” John replied in a whisper.

Sherlock took a breath, “I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry for what I put you through, not just three years ago, but every day. If this is what it feels like for you when I go off and risk my life on a daily basis then I am so, so sorry.” Sherlock felt his voice breaking. “I can’t lose you John. You’re the first person in this stupid world that hasn’t completely bored me to death and has put up with my mess and sleepless nights. I didn’t even pause to think about how badly my death affected you. But now I know, having almost experienced those feeling in reverse. I didn’t mean to hurt you John, that was never my intention you must understand this I…” Sherlock felt the tears now and he stopped talking his breath was caught in his throat.

John was staring at him, “Sherlock.” His voice was barely audible. Sherlock raised his head to look at John whose eyes held their own set of tears. “It’s alright; I know why you did it. I understand, and I already forgave you.”

“How can you?” Sherlock asked thoroughly confused. “How can you possible forgive me for the pain I caused you?”

“Because Sherlock, that’s what best friends do, they forgive and move on.”

“How are you such a good man?” Sherlock asked incredulously.

“I choose to see the best in people Sherlock, before I see the bad.”

“Then you must see nothing in me.” Sherlock mumbled.

John actually did sit up now, wincing in pain.He was glared at Sherlock, “Don’t you say that Sherlock. Don’t put yourself down like this again. You are a good man Sherlock, you’re just well, you are you.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Oh stop.” John said with a smile, “Just come here.” Sherlock sat for a second longer before moving to sit on the side of John’s bed. Before Sherlock could move John had flung his arms around Sherlock and was giving him a tight squeeze. Sherlock stiffened at first but then sank into John’s embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Sherlock muttered into John’s ear. “Emotions are not really my area, and I don’t really know how to handle them.”

John pulled way, “I told you to stop it. Stop apologizing.”

“I can’t.” Sherlock replied. “I will never have enough time to make up for all the hurt I caused you.”

“You don’t need to.” John said. “It’s moments like this that make those two years worthwhile.”  
****  
John was back from the hospital and Sherlock was sitting in his chair, laptop balanced on his thighs, and his eyes scanning the screen. John sat across from him, like a mirror. Both men were looking for the same thing. Where was Mary operating from? “Found anything?” John asked.

“No.” Sherlock replied.

Things had been slightly awkward between them since the incident in the hospital. John shut his laptop and sighed, “Me neither. Lunch?” He asked as he stood up.

“I’m not hungry.” Sherlock replied without lifting his eyes from the screen.

“Suit yourself.” John moved to the kitchen and only when Sherlock was sure that John had his back to him did he look up. John was scouting out the cabinets for a decent meal but found nothing but a bag of unpopped popcorn. “Well, this will have to do I guess.” He muttered. He went to the microwave to put the bag in when he let out a cry of disgust. “Really Sherlock!” He shouted, “More eyeballs!” Sherlock smiled, his usual troublemaker smile.

“Oh, I forgot about those. Just leave them, it was for an----

“Experiment.” John finished for him.

Sherlock smiled again. “Quite.

“What in the world have you got them soaking in!?” John held up a bag with a red substance in it that was smeared around the eye balls.

“Blood and vinegar.” Sherlock replied absentmindedly as if it should have been obvious.

John heaved a greater sigh, “You are impossible. You know that? Nothing in this flat is edible or clean enough to put food in.” Sherlock didn’t reply he just continued looking at his laptop. “You know what, suddenly I’m not so hungry anymore.”

Sherlock stood up now, “Good, because we’re going out.”

“Where?” John asked.

“Mycroft said he had something for me but I want to see if Lestrade has had any developments before we go.”

“Alright.” John slipped his coat on and followed Sherlock out the door.

“Scotland Yard.” Sherlock told the cabbie, the car lurched forward. 

Lestrade was sitting in his office when they arrived. “Oh, Sherlock, I didn’t know you’d be coming by today.” He said.

“Surprise.” Sherlock replied deadpan. “Have you got anything on Mary?” He asked.

Lestrade’s expression changed at this. “Look Sherlock---

“So you have got something, and you don’t want me to know about it, interesting.” Sherlock broke in.

Lestrade sighed, “Yes, we have something.”

“Well I haven’t got all day, in fact I have an engagement with my brother and he hates being kept waiting.” Sherlock replied.

Lestrade stood up and picked up a folder, “I would advise you to look at the folder alone first.”

“Why is that?” Sherlock asked as he took the folder from Lestrade, but Lestrade didn’t let go of his end.

“Because some things inside it might not settle too well with John.” Lestrade replied before letting go of his end of the folder.

“I assure you I can handle it.” John replied confidently, only Sherlock noted the sound of worry in his voice.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lestrade said as he took his seat again.

“Right, well, thank you.” Sherlock replied.

“Bye then.” John said as they headed out of the Yard.

Once in a cab Sherlock opened the folder, “Do you want to see?” He asked John.

“Yes.” John replied without hesitation.

Together they looked into the folder. It showed all of Mary’s movements since she left her little assassin group. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Sherlock found the last file. It was labeled, Did you Miss Me? John inhaled a sharp breath. Sherlock opened the file. There were pictures of Jim Moriarty, the actor, hired for just these purposes, he himself was indeed a psychopath as well, but he enjoyed the fun part of it, the confrontations, not the actual work ethic. There were pictures of his death and files on his network or Mary’s network, and then Sherlock saw the ‘thing that might not settle too well with John’, it was a picture of John himself, but there was a cross over his face and written in small lettering, that clearly showed how much care had gone into the forming of each letter, there were the words:   
To die is art, till death do us part, I will stop his beating heart.

John shut his eyes and took a breath, “Christ.” He muttered.

“Don’t worry John,” Sherlock said calmly.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! For Christ’s sake Sherlock my ex-wife has wanted me dead from the beginning, and her first attempt was just the other day!”

“She won’t kill you John,” Sherlock grabbed John’s wrist and turned him towards him.

“Yeah, how do you plan to stop her?” John asked, his voice rising.

“I won’t let her kill you John.” Their eyes met.

“No, don’t do this, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” John said.

“I very much intend on keeping this one John.” Sherlock replied, letting go of John’s wrist.

“I should have seen it coming.” John muttered.

“How could you have?” Sherlock asked.

“Well once I found out she was an assassin I should have left! Why is she going after me, I thought she was going after you.”

Sherlock sniffed, “Me too, now I actually have to be concerned.” Sherlock stated in an annoyed way.

“What do you mean now you actually have to be concerned!?”

“Well now it’s your life on the line John, not mine.”

“Jesus Sherlock, you really don’t care. That’s why it was so easy for you wasn’t it. You don’t actually care about your life.”

“Of course I do.” Sherlock replied indignantly. “Just not as much as other people. I am a sociopath after all.”

“You’re not,” John said, “You’re not a sociopath Sherlock, far from it if I do say so myself.”

“Stop worrying John.” Sherlock said bluntly.

“Worrying? Who’s worrying?” John replied.

“You are, your pulse has increased and you’re starting to sweat. Don’t worry, I will have you under my personal surveillance and Mycroft will also assist with the help of his little men, after all his practically   
is the British Government.”

“Sherlock I don’t need protection, I can take care of myself.” John retorted.

“You can take that up with Mycroft then.” Sherlock replied as he stepped out of the cab and started up towards the door.

“Right, I’ll just pay shall I!? Like every other bloody time I get in a cab with you!” John shouted after Sherlock.

Sherlock burst through his brother’s office doors, John behind him, “Hello Brother mine, nice of you to drop by.”

“You said you had something for me.” Sherlock said.

“Yes, if you’ve been a good boy.” Mycroft replied with a terse smile.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Please stop acting like a school teacher and tell me what it is.”  
Mycroft sighed, “We figured out where she’s working from.”

“Excellent, where?” Sherlock clapped his hands together.

“The London Underground.” Mycroft replied.

“What!?” John shouted before Sherlock could say anything.

“Interesting.” Sherlock added after John’s outburst. “Yet naturally, where else would she be, perfect cover, and virtually undetectable. But where, in the London Underground?”

“That is yet to be discovered.” Mycroft replied.

Sherlock grinned, “I was hoping you’d say that. Come on John, the game is on.” 

“Didn’t you have something you wanted to ask me?” Mycroft asked.

Sherlock spun around, grinning, “Good deduction skills brother dear, yes there is something.”

John put his hand on Sherlock’s arm, “It’s really fine Sherlock, don’t go through the trouble.”

Sherlock ignored him, “John’s life is in danger, I want him under protection.”

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, “There is only so much I can do.”

“You don’t need to do much Mycroft, I myself will be taking care of John but extra eyes would be,” Sherlock paused, “nice.” Sherlock said.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Mycroft replied.

Sherlock led John out of the room, once they were in the hallway John stopped, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why do you say that?” Sherlock asked as he stopped too.

“I can take care of myself.” John spat.

Sherlock sighed, “Look John, it’s not for your benefit, it’s for mine.”

“What are you on about? Sherlock ever since the Thames incident you’ve been acting very, odd.”

“We can talk about it once we’ve sorted out Mary.” Sherlock replied awkwardly.

“Or we could talk about it now.” John offered, his voice sharp.

“I can’t, not here. We have to find Mary first John, I know you understand that.”

John was silent for a second then he responded, “I understand it Sherlock, but after this is over I want an explanation of your off behavior.” 

“I’m not sure I can guarantee that, like I said, emotions aren’t my area.”

“Then you can try to make them your area for five minutes. Come on, let’s find Mary.”  
****  
Sherlock clicked on his flashlight and John followed suit, “It reeks down here.” John muttered.

“Mm.” Sherlock uttered in agreement. “Let’s just keep going.”

They continued their walk when Sherlock spotted something, “What is it?” John asked.

“A hatch.” Sherlock replied, running his fingers along the dirty tunnel wall. He pressed on it and it clicked open. Sherlock smirked at John and together they went inside. Instantly the smell changed from   
dank and rancid to floral and pleasant. They continued on their way and Sherlock started a whispered conversation, “I must say John, you’ve been very relaxed about this whole situation, it’s very out of character.”

John shrugged, “I guess it didn’t really come as a surprise anymore, after everything that’s happened to me, and after what happened after I found out who Mary really was. I guess I don’t care anymore.”

“Well you should. Mary just wasn’t right for you John.” Sherlock said.

“I don’t think anyone’s right for me.” John said gloomily.

Sherlock was about to reply when suddenly the click of a gun brought them to a stop, “I thought you’d come looking for me.”

John was the first one to turn around, in the dim light Sherlock saw a look of pure hatred latch onto his features. “You.” He growled through clenched teeth.

Mary smiled at him, “Surprise.”

John’s hand twitched on his gun and Sherlock saw now to intervene. “Mary,” He smiled at her, “Nice to see you again.”

“Oh don’t start Sherlock.” Mary snapped, “I don’t know why you came here, you don’t even know my plan.”

“I don’t need to know your plan to stop you.” Sherlock replied. 

“I’ve evaded your capture before Sherlock, I’ll do it again.”

“Not likely.” John snapped.

Mary faced her husband, her gun pointed straight at his face as if she had never known him or loved him, “Oh really?”

John raised the hand that held his own gun, “Really.”

Mary raised an eyebrow, “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Do you want to risk it?” John asked, his hands steady.

“I do actually.” Mary grinned.

Footsteps came from behind them and Sherlock turned to look, John didn’t move. The figure of a man stepped from the shadows and then the light hit him, he smiled, “Hiii.” His voice wavered.

“Jim Moriarty.” Sherlock said, “Of course you’re still alive.”

“Of course I am,” Moriarty replied, “Did you really think I went up on that rooftop without a plan of my own?”

“It was my plan.” Mary put it lightly.

“Yeah okay it was.” Jim hunched his shoulders. “But I helped.”

“Nope.” Mary corrected again.

“Okay but---

“Nope.” Mary said.

“Whatever. The point is Sherlock, this time we really have you cornered, this time there is no plan.” Moriarty took a step forward.

“I am still the man that you faced Sherlock, it wasn’t all her, we just decided to work together, she came up with the plans, and I executed them, with a few touches of my own in there. Carl Powers was my idea by the way, just so we’re clear. 

“So that’s it is it?” Sherlock said, not taking his eyes off Moriarty. “The two of you against the rest of the world.”

“That’s it,” Mary replied, “And it’s left to the two of you to save the world, but you won’t get there will they Jim?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I still owe you a fall Sherlock.” Moriarty grinned. “Would you like to play the game?”

“No.” Sherlock’s reply was so curt that Moriarty’s smile wavered just slightly. “I’m done playing games.”

“You don’t want to watch the world cave in Sherlock?” Moriarty asked, recovered from his moment of weakness. Sherlock didn’t reply and Moriarty took the chance, “I think you do.”

John and Mary were still squaring off and Sherlock hadn’t taken his eyes from Moriarty, “Jim, shall we move to faze one?” Mary asked.

Moriarty nodded with a smirk, “Faze one.” John couldn’t pull the trigger fast enough before Mary’s gun had sent a dark from it. John dropped his gun and Sherlock made a move for it but Moriarty grabbed   
him from behind, “Don’t worry, it will be over soon. Not as quickly as last time I’m afraid.” Sherlock struggled but Moriarty held him fast, John was slumped to the ground and Mary trained her gun on   
Sherlock. “Sweet dreams.” Moriarty laughed as Mary’s dart pierced him and he lost all feeling in his arms and legs, he fell against Moriarty who just let him drop.  
****  
Sherlock woke on hard ground and the hum of an engine was present all around him. A plane he deduced. Sherlock sat up, his head spinning, his hands were tied and so were his feet. John was nowhere in sight and panic had begun to set in, but Sherlock took a deep breath and controlled it, he would be no use to John if he couldn’t think straight. He took in his surroundings: Small plane, only the hull he sat in and the pilots chamber, he couldn’t deduce the exact height of the plane but he guessed only about 4,000 feet.Since the plane was small it wouldn’t have a large fuel cabinet, therefore he couldn’t have been up for long and he couldn’t be travelling a great distance, the plane would never make it.

Sherlock was lurched backwards as the plane came to a hover and the drop hatch opened, Moriarty’s voice clouded around him, “It’s the same terms as last time Sherlock, if you jump John Watson will not die, if you don’t just, you can count on everyone’s death.”

“You’re going to implode London anyway!” Sherlock shouted, he had deduced it from the way Moriarty and Mary had held themselves, it was obvious really when Moriarty made the crack about the world caving in, the whole London Underground nearly exploded once, so why wouldn’t they choose to shelter there when planning the bombing of an entire city. “Why would my death make a difference!?”

“Oh Sherlock, Sherlock, you don’t understand, John will live through it all, so will Mrs. Hudson, and Greg Lestrade, and even your brother if you wish it. Everyone you care about will be alive in the end, just not you.” Moriarty replied. 

“Don’t do it Sherlock!” John’s voice shouted from overhead, he couldn’t get any more words out because Sherlock heard John grunt in pain.

“No stop!” Sherlock stood up, with difficulty because his hands were tied together. “Stop, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.” The wind buffeted Sherlock’s face and his coat whipped behind him. Sherlock stood there, memories flashing before him, he couldn’t breathe and he sank to the floor, “I can’t.”

“Of course you can’t.” Moriarty spoke, Sherlock could tell he was grinning, “You can’t do that to John Watson again.”

“No, I can’t.” Sherlock admitted. Then quick as lightning he was on his feet and his hands closed over the captains cabinet, and he then he was inside. Just as he suspected there was no pilot, it was on a preset course.

“No, stop, what are you doing!?” Moriarty shouted.

“Stop him!” Mary’s voice added on.

Sherlock had his hands around the controls now and was easing the plane down, “Fight John. Just fight!” He yelled.

“This is why I don’t let you make the plans!” Mary screamed. 

Sherlock grinned to himself as he landed the small plane on someone’s yard. He cut his bonds and stepped out of the plane. Now to save John, just then Sherlock’s phone beeped in an incoming call.   
Sherlock picked it up, “Don’t you worry brother mine, John Watson is secure.”

Sherlock heaved in relief, “Thank you Mycroft, what of Moriarty and Mary?”

“Working on it.” Mycroft replied.

“Well get a move on, they plan to blow up London.”

“Those charges have already been neutralized Sherlock, now it’s just finding them.”  
Sherlock stopped dead when he realized what road he was on, “Well you don’t have to look anymore. I think I’ve just spotted them.” Sherlock broke into a run, hanging up on Mycroft as he did. Mary turned to face him and Sherlock saw that she was alone. Then something moved behind her, Sherlock didn’t stop running. Mary was about to turn and run herself when the bullet hit her and John stepped out. Sherlock came to a halt, just as Mycroft’s men caught up with John.

“That’s that solved then.” John said tersely.

“Yes I suppose so.” Sherlock replied, slightly in shock.

“Come on, back to Baker Street, you have some explaining to do.” John started to walk away and Sherlock followed.

They were sitting on the couch in 221B and Sherlock faced him, “I don’t know where to start.” He said.

“The Thames.” John offered.

“Okay, well,” Sherlock took a breath, “when you were thrown off the dock I just felt, like part of myself died, and I couldn’t bear that. I went in after you.” Sherlock felt his emotions breaking through into his voice, “When you were lying on the beach, dead, or almost dead, I just, I don’t know. I couldn’t lose you. And when you pulled through afterwards I was overcome with joy, I just,” Sherlock paused, “I realized what it was like for you. Even when I was in the plane, I couldn’t jump because I knew what it would do to you again.” Sherlock stopped again, John hadn’t taken his eyes off Sherlock. “John,” Sherlock moved slightly closer to John. “Ever since I met you, I don’t know, I just knew, I knew that you and I, we were made for each other. A world without you is no world at all.” John smiled and Sherlock drew confidence from it, “John there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now, and I have to tell you now before it’s really too late.” Sherlock reached for John’s hand this time, John flinched but didn’t move away. Sherlock heard him breathe ‘Oh God’ quietly out of his mouth. “John, I couldn’t tell Molly Hooper I loved her, and then she asked me to say it meaningfully and I couldn’t.”

“But you did.” John said, his voice a whisper.

“Because I imagined it was you.” Sherlock replied softly.

“Me?” John’s voice caught.

Sherlock took a breath, this was it, “I love you John.” The words were in the air now, his heart pounded. John smiled and gave Sherlock’s hand a squeeze.

“It’s nice to actually hear you say it for once.” John said. “I knew for a while that you had, feelings for me, but I didn’t want to say anything until you said it first. I can never tell with you Sherlock, you’re not exactly an easy man to read. But now that you’ve told me I can safely tell you, that I love you as well.”

Sherlock felt warmth seep through him, their eyes were glued together, Sherlock felt himself inching forward. John stayed still, Sherlock could feel his increased pulse through his hand, John was scared. Sherlock grew closer, and then his lips touched John’s. John stiffened, then softened into the kiss. It grew deeper and Sherlock moved his hands to John’s face, John leaned into him, then pulled away, breathless. They sat there panting for a second, then John spoke.

“I’ve never, um.” He started, but trailed off.

Sherlock took John’s hand again and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “It’s okay.”

“I just, I’m not really, well gay.” John said, it sounded like a question.

“No, you’re not. But that doesn’t matter John, because to you, it’s not about the gender, it’s about the love. It is what it is, and you are you.” John smiled deeply, a real smile, and then he kissed Sherlock again.


End file.
